Photography And Half-Thoughts By Mitchell Hegman

...because some of it is pretty and some of it is not.

Saturday, April 22, 2017

A Small but Conspicuous Death

Some of my friends (Kevin
in particular) have taken to calling me the “Dalai Lammer.” I am unsure about the spelling of this name because
it is a bastardization of the name Dalai Lama.
I am called this due to my aversion to killing stuff. Sure I kill invasive weeds. If starving, I would readily hunt down an
animal.

But I have—as they say—gone
soft.

I now use live traps to
catch mice. Once I catch one, I walk the
mouse far afield and then release it with an admonishment about invading my
house. I try my best to capture and
release outside any insects (and even spiders) found in my house. I have not hunted big game since high school. I even allow dandelions to invade the grass
down at my lakefront.

I simply find killing everything
that bothers me senseless. Or as Kevin
would put it: I am a pussy.

Evening last, I stepped
out my front door and noticed a black caterpillar on my concrete walk. I cautiously stepped around the caterpillar. When I stepped outside an hour later, I noticed
the caterpillar was still there in the same spot.

I must tell you, I was sincerely
concerned about the little fellow.
Yesterday’s temperatures were somewhat chilly due to a passing storm
front. I assumed the caterpillar might
have just been catching the last of the sun.

I let him be.

This morning, as soon as
the sun clawed through the trees on the hills east of my house, I went outside
and found the caterpillar still there in the exact same spot. When I bent down and prodded, I discovered the
little fellow dead.

If there is one person in
the world I know, it’s me.

If I left the caterpillar
there, my attention would be drawn to it—forced to it—every time I stepped
outside. To me, death, no matter how
small, is conspicuous.

I scooped the dead caterpillar
into the palm of my hand and then took it out into the spring grass where the
natural cycles can do whatever it is that they do with dead black caterpillars.